Breathe Out (So I Can Breathe You In)
by A Whisper Of Grace
Summary: Hook has been hit with a sleeping curse while fighting the Wicked Witch, but not only is this one different in that it will kill him if he's not woken, but it turns out that True Love's Kiss works a little differently as well.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is a thing that jumped into my head on the weekend and wouldn't go away until it was written. It will most likely have three parts.**

It was too quiet. There were dozens of people on the deck of the ship but not one of them spoke a word as they parted quickly to let her through, not one of them looking her in the eye when hers darted over them for some sign of what was going on. Her phone was clutched tightly in her hand, Mary Margaret's words ringing in her ears. _Henry's fine. The family's fine. But Emma... Just get to the docks. It's Hook._

_It's Hook._

She ran down the short hallway, oblivious to the walls that she bumped into or the carefully blank expression on Ruby's face as she almost bowled her over. The door to the Captain's quarters was open and she stumbled down the steps, jumping down the last few to land heavily at the bottom. Turning quickly, she stepped into the room, but strong hands grabbed her upper arms and held her still, blocking her view of the room. She tried to pull away but David's grip tightened and he moved his head so it was right in front of hers. 'Emma,' he began, his brow drawn down into a frown, his face full of pity and sadness and hopelessness.

'Don't,' she managed, crossing her arms over her chest to grab his and pull them away from her. He moved like he was going to try and stop her again when she stepped around him but after a moment he let her go.

'It's not good,' he said reluctantly.

Her eyes swept quickly over the room, taking in Henry in the corner with Regina's arms around him, with Mary Margaret by their side, before landing on the thin bed in the corner. Hook was lying on his back, on top of the covers, his arms limp by his sides. Emma stepped toward him slowly, dimly aware of David's presence just behind her but she couldn't take her attention from the pirate. Stepping right up to the bed, her eyes flickered over his body, searching frantically for some sort of wound that would have caused this much of a panic, but there was nothing that she could see.

'He was in the thick of the fighting,' David said softly, and she could hear the pain in her father's voice. _When had the two of them gotten so close?_ she thought idly. 'He got hit with something meant for Henry, but Hook pushed him out of the way.'

Glancing across the room, she saw Regina's arms tighten further around Henry. Hook had sacrificed himself for her son? A leaden weight started to build in her stomach and she made herself look back at him, finally laying her eyes on Hook's face. His eyes were closed, his face pale, too pale. Holding her breath, she raised her hand to his cheek, her fingertips brushing against the too-cold skin, his stubble scratching at her hand. Her eyes fell closed as her breath came out in a whoosh, and as it did she felt something in her chest tighten. 'He's dead?' Her voice broke on the final word and she grabbed a hold of his lifeless hand, squeezing it tightly.

They should have had more time, but there was always something in the way, always a bad guy waiting in the wings to pick up where the last one left off. Keeping them apart, keeping them busy, saving the town. She hadn't had time to think, had barely had time to feel, but she knew that she _wanted_ that time. With him, with Hook. And now...

'He's not dead,' David said, and Emma's eyes snapped open, locking on his as she spun around without letting go of Hook's hand. 'It's a sleeping curse.'

Emma looked down at him again, searching his features for some spark of life. He didn't look like he was breathing, but wasn't that the point? How did they know he wasn't dead? 'I thought you had to enter a sleeping curse willingly.'

'This one is different,' Regina spoke up from the corner. 'I've seen the witch use it before. It took him whether he was willing or not, and it won't settle for just keeping him asleep.'

'It's going to kill him, Emma,' David said.

It was all too much. The world felt like it was closing in on her quickly. The bitch had tried to do this to Henry, to her son, and now Hook was going to die because of it. 'You took care of her,' she said to Regina. It wasn't a question, and she didn't care how cold her voice sounded. When Regina answered, hers just was as hard.

'I did.'

Swallowing hard to try and clear the lump in her throat, Emma propped herself on the edge of the mattress, leaning over Hook to get a better look at his face. Pushing aside his shirt, she lay her hand flat on his chest, over his heart, praying silently for the faintest movement, the barest sign. The sleeping curse would make him appear as dead, but if this one would kill him anyway then how would they know when it was too late?

She couldn't let him go yet. They'd only known each other for a short time but ever since Neverland he'd had her back, had supported her and held her together and fought for her, and _he was not allowed to die, damn it!_

'It's still just a curse, right?' she said, her eyes glancing over the others before they landed on Regina.

'Yes,' she said slowly. Henry's eyes widened and then became hopeful when he realized what she was going to do.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Emma leaned down, her hands cupping Hook's cheeks. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed her lips firmly against his.

The world went black.

* * *

When Emma opened her eyes she was standing on the deck of the _Jolly Roger_. Her body was frozen for a moment as she tried to process her shock, and then she turned around, looking around to try and take in her surroundings. What the hell was going on?

Nobody else was on the deck that she could see. They were out on the ocean but they appeared to be anchored in. She could see land in the distance, a forest along the coastline for as far as she could see, and although she didn't have a whole heap of experience in things like this, she had a feeling that they weren't in the world that she knew anymore. The air had felt different in the Enchanted Forest, and since she'd discovered that she could use magic, she'd figured that maybe she could feel the magic in the air when she was here. She certainly couldn't see any tall buildings or anything like that behind the trees.

What was she doing here? And how the hell did she get here? She hadn't really had a clue as to whether kissing Hook would wake him up, but getting transported somewhere in the process - getting transported to _another realm_... Something wasn't right.

Whatever had happened, she couldn't be here while Hook was _dying_.

Where they were didn't matter. She was about to turn away from trying to figure out the coastline when arms wrapped around her from behind, causing her to jump. 'Do you like it?' a familiar voice hummed in her ear. Her heart almost felt like it stopped and she tried to spin around, wanted to fling her arms around him and _how was he here with her, and alive, and awake_, but instead she just leaned back into him, relaxing into his embrace.

And although it felt good, although it seemed like such a natural thing to do, why wouldn't her body respond to her?

It was the oddest sensation: the panic quickly building in her chest while her body itself was so relaxed, her breathing even, a content smile on her face when she felt like she should be either hugging Hook or shaking him, crying or laughing or _something._

'I've always wanted to show you my point of view of the world,' Hook continued, oblivious to her distress. His arms tightened around her for a moment and his lips brushed against her shoulder.

Why was he acting so familiar? She knew that he cared for her and hoped that he'd understood by now that she did as well, but aside from the fiasco in New York when she hadn't known who he was, they hadn't shared a kiss since their first in Neverland. The familiarity was something that she wanted, she'd realized a while ago, but they hadn't had the chance so far to find it, in amongst all of the constant hurdles thrown at them.

_Like this_, she supposed. Whatever this was.

Hook's hand and hook shifted on her waist and he guided her to spin around, and she got her first look at him since she'd found herself on the deck of the ship. Even though she was still smiling happily at him, she wanted to frown in confusion. Not only did he not appear sick at all, but there was something about him that seemed different.

It took her a moment to realize what it was. He had an expression on his face that hadn't been quite like this since when they climbed the beanstalk. There'd been hints of it since then, but nothing just the same. He looked happy. Purely, blissfully carefree. There was no arrogance, no snarkiness, no innuendo or malice.

'It's nice to get away for a few days,' she found herself saying, without really knowing where the words were coming from.

Somehow, his face softened even more as his smile turned into a grin. And despite everything, despite having absolutely no idea what was going on or whether either of them were okay, she felt her heart soften right along with it to see him look so happy while he was looking at her. 'It's nice to get you all to myself for a few days,' he said, his grin turning into a smirk and he waggled his eyebrows at her, and instead of rolling her eyes at him or pushing him away or punching him in the arm, she found herself laughing and leaning into him.

'Like you need an excuse,' she said, nudging him gently with her elbow.

Chuckling quietly, he drew her closer to him by tightening his left arm around her waist while his hand came up to cup her cheek. His thumb rubbed against her skin and her eyes closed for a second as she leaned into his touch, simply enjoying the moment. A part of her was, anyway, while the other was freaking out over, well, everything.

He smiled at her again, crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. 'Emma, I love you,' he said, and even though she knew it, she'd known it for a while - even if it took her a little longer to accept it - he'd never actually said it to her in so many words. His words in the Echo Cave and his promise to win her heart still echoed in her heart whenever her mind fell on him, but he hadn't said the actual words to her before, as if it were something he'd been saving for when they had the time to appreciate it. Maybe he was worried about scaring her off, and she wouldn't have blamed him for that. She had appreciated the space that he'd given her to cope with getting Henry back and dealing with the aftermath of that, and the new curse, and the Wicked Witch...

But despite all of those reasons, hearing those actual words come so casually from his lips sent a chill up her spine that she hadn't expected. 'I love you,' she said, her mouth moving to form the words against her will but as they did she realized how much she meant them. She'd kissed him, hadn't she? Had kissed him with the intention of waking him up from a curse. _True Love's Kiss._

She loved him.

And with that revelation, another hit her as well. If she loved him and he loved her, then their True Love's Kiss should be working. He'd been asleep, so maybe this was what he was dreaming about, which is why she didn't have any control over her body.

_He was dreaming about her_.

Which was all well and good, and did make her feel warmer, but _how the hell was she supposed to get out?_

Hook ducked his head, brushing his nose against hers. Despite her rising panic, Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, grinning up at him before she pulled him down to kiss him.

* * *

Emma's eyes were closed, her head thrown back and angled to the side, a body pressed flush against hers and her back up against a wall. Her first instinct was to fling her eyes open to see who the hell it was that was grinding up against her, mouth attacking her neck and a hand kneading at her breast through her shirt, but her eyes wouldn't open. She could make a pretty good guess as to who it was, but it was still unnerving to not be able to see him and know for sure.

It took her a second longer to realize exactly what was happening and then she was wanting to push him away but her body was still not listening. Instead, her hand fisted in his hair and pulled his mouth back up to hers, kissing him with considerably more passion than she had just moments ago on the deck. Her other arm slid around his waist and pulled his hips closer to hers, rocking her body against his.

They moaned together, the sound escaping her unbidden, and yes, that definitely sounded like Hook. His hook caught her underneath her knee and pulled her leg up around his waist, pressing harder against her so she could feel every inch of his erection pressed against her core.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She had absolutely no idea what was going on, expect for the hunch that she might be trapped in his dreams with no clue as to how to escape. All she needed was just two minutes to try and figure out what to do about it.

She also didn't want him to stop.

If she was right, then he was dreaming about this, right now. _Has he dreamed about me before?_

'Killian,' she moaned when he broke the kiss, sounding breathless, and he cursed, the words muffled against her neck. Finally her eyes opened and although her view of the room was rather unfocused, she did her best to take in as much as she could through her apparently lust-filled brain. Ignoring her out of control body was nowhere near as hard as ignoring the way Hook moved against her, but somehow she managed to note that they were in his cabin, pressed up against the wall opposite the bed.

Adjusting his grip on her so that her legs were wrapped around his waist and he was supporting her weight, Hook turned them away from the wall and stepped toward the bed. Before she could let that implication sink in, she was propped up on the edge of the narrow bed, her legs parted and Hook standing in between them, with no recollection of actually crossing the room.

_All right, so this is definitely a dream or... something._ Hook pushed her red leather jacket off of her shoulders roughly._ Whether it's Hook's own or some kind of... _Her hands were attacking the clasps on his vest, clearly desperate to get him out of it. _Some kind of..._

_Of test,_ she thought firmly, frantically trying to ignore how damned fantastic he tasted when she opened her mouth forcefully against his, the way that his shoulders felt under her hands when she slipped them underneath the collar of his shirt. _Something to do with the True Love's -_

'Have you wanted this for as long as I have?' she murmured against his lips, interrupting her own thoughts. _What?_

'Longer,' he told her, pressing himself against her so she could feel just how much he wanted her _now_, and the gasp that slipped out could have been her own. Was this supposed to be their first time together?

Her mind froze on that thought. _Is this actually going to happen?_ The last dream had cut off in an apparently random place, so would that mean that she wouldn't stay here either? It was obvious where this dream was leading to, but would she stay long enough to actually... And it wasn't like she hadn't thought about it before. But this wasn't right, not at all, _she couldn't even control herself._

But it seemed that Hook's subconscious might be leading the dream. The last thing she'd said had been unlike her, but she imagined that it would be a thing that he'd want to hear from her, if he truly wanted her as much as he'd suggested to her.

All of her thoughts fled her when suddenly there was nothing between them, her arms wrapping around his bare shoulders, his around her waist and his hand dug lightly into her side as he held her to him, his chest hair scratching gently at her nipples. He still stood between her parted legs and he was _right there_, his length pressed right against her and when she moaned this time she wasn't completely sure that it wasn't her own.

_This is really happening_.

He shifted quickly, pulled back slightly and lined himself up. Her eyes closed right in time with her own thoughts and she held her breath as he slid into her slowly, stretching her open deliciously, not stopping until he was buried completely inside of her.

She felt like she should be trembling, but she had no idea anymore why. She'd given up completely on trying to figure out what was going on, admitting that there was no chance of being able to focus enough while _this_ was happening. He remained still for a few seconds, the two of them breathing heavily against each other as they adjusted to the feeling. Eventually he pulled out of her almost all the way before pushing back in quickly, setting a quick pace as their bodies got to know the other. And dear God, but it felt as natural as breathing, like they'd done it for years, like their bodies were made for each other. She didn't know whether it was the dream or whether it was the truth, but damn it, it felt _so good_.

His hand dropped to her hip and for the first time she noticed that he wasn't wearing his hook or his brace. Something, however, was pressing against her right hip, and although she couldn't look down to confirm it, she knew that it must be the stump at his wrist. Was this a part of his dream? Her acceptance of his injury?

It had never been an issue for her, anyway.

Hook picked up his pace, tightening his grip on her as he thrust into her, sending waves of pleasure shooting through her. However real or not this was, she was definitely really feeling just how good this was. Her desire for him, she realized, was not false in the slightest. Completely letting go of any ideas of _wrong_ and _inappropriate_ and _danger_, she let herself fall fully into the moment. She might not have instigated the movement when she pulled his upper body closer to hers, kissing him hungrily, or when she lay back on the bed, pulling him with her so that he lay atop of her, but she revelled in every minute of it, every movement and sensation, every groan that he sounded because of her, not wanting it to end. Her legs wrapped around his waist, needing to keep him as close as possible.

She cried out his name again, throwing her head back against the mattress, and when her eyes opened it was to see him staring down at her with something akin to awe in his eyes, confirming her theory that this dream was of the first time they were together. He looked absolutely wrecked, and she couldn't help but love it.

'I want to watch you,' he whispered, and the way her body reacted told her quite clearly just what he'd meant. Almost as though by his order - and it very well might have been, subconsciously, anyway - she felt the heat in her core building, quicker than she'd had before. She felt something like apprehension as he started thrusting into her harder, rougher, his desperation matching her own as she clung to him like he was her lifeline. His weight shifted to his right arm and his left slid lower, and she felt a thumb pressing against her clit but she didn't even have time to realize what was wrong about that before her whole body was tightening, his name tumbling from her lips as she came hard and fast. As her body went limp he thrust into her once, twice, before he followed after her, burying his face into her neck as she felt him let himself go.

He slumped on top of her but it wasn't uncomfortable - rather, she felt warm and safe, for the first time in a long time. One arm wrapped loosely around his back while her other hand rested on the back of his head, her fingers lazily threading through his hair. 'I love you,' she found herself telling him.

Hook nuzzled into her neck, a move that surprised her. She hadn't picked him for the cuddling type. 'I love you,' he murmured.

* * *

The first thing that Emma felt was the breeze on her skin. The first thing that she smelt was the sea.

They weren't on the ship this time, though, but on a beach, the sand warm beneath her feet. Hook stood in front of her, fully dressed as she was, and if her body had been her own her cheeks would have been bright red. _It's all right for you_, she thought, _skipping from dream to dream like it was nothing_. She wasn't sure what was happening yet but she needed a minute or two to get her bearings. Although her body didn't feel as though it had just been thoroughly fucked, she couldn't push away the images of him moving above her, his hot skin against hers, the look on his face, how he'd felt while he was moving inside her...

Hook stepped closer to her, taking her hands in his and squeezing them gently. He was looking at her with such... well, love, she admitted, just like he always looked at her now. It was about time that she not only accepted that, but realize how much she welcomed it.

Emma glanced around and she took the opportunity to take in her surroundings again. She'd thought that they were alone, but there were several other people on the beach with them. Ruby, Tink, Regina, and a few of the dwarves stood a little distance away, watching them, but every few seconds one or more of them flickered in or out of sight, almost as if Hook's mind couldn't make up whether they should be there or not. Neal came into sight but disappeared quickly. Mary Margaret and David stood nearby, along with a man who she didn't recognize who was wearing some kind of uniform, and they were the only three people who remained unchanging. Henry was with them but instead of coming in and out of view, his appearance changed constantly. One moment he was as she knew him, the other older, as if the timeframe of the dream was uncertain.

Her mother smiled at her encouragingly, and she wondered if this was something that she should be uncertain about. What could they possibly be doing that required an audience?

Curious, she tried to get a better look at the man standing beside David, but her head turned back to face Hook. He smiled immediately when she did so. 'Emma Swan, I love you,' he told her, his voice quiet but confident and proud. 'The road has not been an easy one for us, but we've battled our way through it and come out stronger because of it. And I'd face it all again if it meant I could keep you by my side. I promise to cherish you as you deserve to be cherished. You and Henry will not want for anything, if I can manage it.' His voice dropped, became slightly husky with the emotion that she could see clearly in his eyes. 'I'll be anything that you need of me, a friend and a partner, and hope that is enough. If you'll have me.'

As her vision started to cloud with what was apparently tears, Emma tried and failed miserably to bring some sort of order to her thoughts and - more importantly - her emotions. His words touched her, moved her, made her feel just as he would have intended them to. He made her feel loved. His words promised love, his hope for them, an assurance that he truly wanted her.

And although that warmed her heart and thrilled her, the other half of her was panicking because of the obvious intention behind the words.

He wanted to marry her.

No, she realized, finally understanding just why they had such an audience. He _was _marrying her.

And while her mouth was opening to say something that was probably a hell of a lot more eloquent than she could ever truly come up with, her mind was hammering wildly at the cage that was her own body.

It didn't matter, in that moment, that she'd tried True Love's Kiss to wake him up, or that she'd finally admitted to herself that she did actually love him. She hadn't thought much further than that, other than to imagine a probably awkward conversation if he woke up about how just because she loved him didn't mean that she could change who she was and become some lovey-dovey girl. If all of this craziness that was suddenly her life started to settle down then she'd have wanted some sort of normal relationship with him, if such a thing could be possible with Captain Hook, but _marriage?_

Emma Swan didn't do marriage. Maybe once she'd wanted it, when she was a teenager and full of dreams of love and settling down and having a family one day, but she'd long since become jaded, convinced that such a life wasn't for her. What kind of wife would she make, anyway? She could barely function in her own life with Henry without someone else to look after, and she certainly didn't need anyone to look after her.

She was more scared of this than of the place she had just come from. She understood sex. She'd had her fair share of it, mostly one night stands since she'd left jail, too distrustful for anything else, surviving on emotionless couplings to keep her sane. Even if what she'd just shared with Hook had been nothing close to emotionless, there was the chance that he wouldn't even know what had happened if he woke, and even if he did she could convince herself that it was nothing if she had to. She didn't have control of her actions, after all, so there was always that to fall back onto - even if she didn't think she'd have been able to pull herself away from him if she could.

Marriage was different. Marriage was commitment. She couldn't run away from that, which is why it was her first instinct to do exactly that.

_You're not _actually _marrying him right now_, she reminded herself harshly. This wasn't real, and going along with it wasn't going to mean that they were actually married.

Hook adjusted his grip on her hand, bringing her attention back to him. He smiled at her encouragingly, reassuringly, somehow taking the edge off of the raging turmoil she was feeling. It was bizarre to think that in the real world he was lying in his bed, dying, but here he looked as healthy as he ever had. He transferred her left hand to rest on his hook and she squeezed his hand with her free one before letting it drop, taking this one moment to appreciate the fact that he wasn't dead right now.

She gasped quietly, then jumped at the small sound. She'd been surprised, and had responded.

The Emma in Hook's dream wouldn't have been surprised. _I can move._

Her head whipped around quickly but everyone else was gone, and when she looked back to Hook it was obvious that his eyes were only for her. Everyone else was unimportant, and this moment was theirs alone. She could push him away, could take a minute to figure out what was going on, could save herself the awkwardness of whatever this would mean for them when they woke.

She hesitated.

This wasn't about marriage just because it was what was done. _I'll cherish you, as you deserve to be cherished._ He knew the loneliness and bitterness that she'd been through; he'd seen it all himself, a hundred times worse. This dream wasn't about caging her or confining her, it was about loving her, and wanting her to love him too. He saw her walls and understood them, respected them, but he hoped that he could break them down enough for her to let him in this much.

His confident grin turning into a nervous one, Hook brought his hand back to hers, a ring between his fingers. 'Emma, my love, will you be my wife?'

She could give him this moment, surely?

'I will,' she said shakily, her voice barely above a whisper.

The ring slid onto her finger quickly, a perfect fit. _Of course it's a perfect fit,_ she mocked herself. _This isn't real!_

The joyful look on his face was, though. Swallowing hard, she was about to search herself for a ring, hoping that it was in one of her pockets, when one appeared in her hand. And just as it hit her that he didn't have a ring finger for her to put it on, the cold metal curved around her wrist turned into warm skin, and she looked down quickly in shock to see his left hand cradling hers.

Blinking quickly, she raised her eyes to his again as she adjusted her grip on his hand. 'Ho-' She stumbled over the word, knowing that it wasn't what she should call him. 'Killian,' she corrected, the name feeling strange on her tongue, 'will you be my husband?'

'I will,' he told her solemnly, his voice thick with emotion.

_It doesn't mean anything_, she told herself, pushing the ring over his knuckles quickly. _Not really_, she tried, wrapping his hand tightly in both of hers and squeezing it a hell of a lot tighter than she probably needed to. _He probably won't even know_, she thought, as his hand slipped out of hers and he brought both of them up to plunge into her hair, pulling her in to press his lips against hers firmly, while her arms wrapped around his neck to hold him closer.

_Fuck it._

* * *

She was on the _Jolly Roger _again, but this time she wasn't alone.

There were men everywhere, carrying things, cleaning things, adjusting things, all of them dressed in a uniform similar or the same as the one that the stranger had been wearing at her -

_Say it, Emma_.

At her wedding. She looked around quickly, relieved to find that she had control of her movements again, but she couldn't see Hook anywhere. She walked to the other side of the ship, eyes flicking from person to person. Stepping up to someone at random when she still didn't see Hook, she smiled at him with a friendliness that belied her nervousness. 'Excuse me? I need to see Captain Hook.'

The man continued his work, ignoring her to keep on coiling a length of rope around a hook. She frowned at him. 'Hello? I'm looking for Killian Jones.' He still didn't respond, which was definitely not a good thing for him considering how highly strung she was at the moment. 'Are you seriously going to just ignore me?' Reaching out to grab his arm and _make_ him pay attention to her, she cried out in surprise when her hand went right through him.

Snatching it back quickly, she stared at it for a few seconds before she reached out again, with the same result. _All right, what is it_ now?

Was it her or him that wasn't real? Stepping back, she thrust her arm toward the next closest person, feeling a chill run through her when it passed through him.

The people here couldn't see or feel her, but her family had seen her in the last dream, so what was different about this one? If they couldn't see her, could Hook? If this dream wasn't about her, who was it about then?

Loud laughter drew her quickly out of her thoughts, and she looked up to finally find Hook standing up near the helm, although it took her a few seconds to recognize it as truly him. She practically ran up the steps, not worrying about how she looked since apparently no one could see her anyway, only coming to a stop when she stood right in front of him.

He paid her no mind, instead continuing in his conversation with the man beside him. _Invisible it is, then._ She let her eyes run over Hook freely as he spoke, listening to his voice but not paying attention to his words, too intrigued by his dress. He wore the same uniform as the other men, all blue and white and yellow and not at all black, with not even the tiniest bit of dark chest hair showing. Once again, his hook was replaced with his hand. And was that...

She gasped. Was that a _ponytail?_ A second later it was gone, but she knew she'd seen it, and he was _never _going to live that down.

Grinning despite herself, she turned her attention to the man Hook was speaking to and realized with a start that he was the same man who had been in the last dream. He was a little taller than Hook, with the same dark hair, though shorter and curly, and he carried an air of confidence in the way he held himself, when he looked at Hook it was with nothing but warmth.

'I'm proud of you, Killian,' the man said, clapping Hook on the shoulder and squeezing it. She hadn't heard what the conversation had been about previous to that, but the look on Hook's face told her that she didn't really need to. Hook looked at the other man with an expression filled with so much devotion and happiness that she thought her heart might break for him.

This dream wasn't about her at all, and suddenly she felt very stupid for thinking that they might all be. It was then that she realized that maybe these weren't just dreams, but his hopes and dreams for things that might, or could have been.

As Hook pulled the other man into an awkward, one-armed hug, Emma stepped back slowly. Even though they didn't know she was there, she wanted to give them a semblance of privacy. Leaning back against the railing of the ship, she watched them from a distance, feeling a heaviness in her heart as the two men clearly enjoyed each others' company.

With a small, sad smile on her face, Emma let Hook have his time with his brother, and hoped that this dream would last just a little while longer.

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: First of all, I just want to say a huge thank you to everybody who favourited/followed/reviewed the first part of this story. The response to this has blown me away, and I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint. A big, massive hug to all of you!**

Hook was lying atop her, his head buried against her neck, one arm around her while the other supported himself, keeping most of his weight off of her. One of hers was wrapped around him, fingertips digging into his shoulder, while her other hand was in his hair, fingers playing idly with the smooth, short strands. Both of them were breathing heavily and Emma could feel a low ache spreading through her body, replacing the tingling feeling just beneath her skin and making it clear where this dream was picking up from.

The fact that one of her legs was hitched around his waist and that they were both very naked might have helped, too.

Testing her control, she firmly had the thought to lower her leg to the bed and was relieved when her body obeyed her. Just to be sure, she shifted it again and was satisfied that her actions were her own.

Before she could think much further about what to do next, Hook shifted his weight off of her, rolling onto his side and pulling her with him so that she was still completely pressed against him. He moved slightly so she could rest her head on his upper arm and then tightened his arms around her, holding her close. She didn't feel excited or nervous about their position as she would have thought she would, but a feeling of contentment flooded through her, a simple happiness that surprised her.

_Maybe this is what it's like,_ she thought, pressing her cheek against his chest and closing her eyes_, to be loved._ She knew that she should get up, get some space so she could think this all through, but she figured she could just take a moment, right? She had more things to get her head around than just whatever situation they were going through.

Her breathing had calmed, along with her pounding heart, and she relaxed further into his embrace. His left arm loosened around her and his fingers trailed gently up and down her side, causing her to shiver slightly when she realized that his hand had replaced his hook once again. That one of his wishes was to touch her so casually with the hand that he'd lost started to overwhelm her and she pulled back, needing to remind herself that this was Hook, the dark, fierce man who challenged her, as well as the new side of him that she was only just starting to get glimpses of. Killian Jones.

Killian Jones wanted her, loved her. Wanted to know her, to marry her someday. Wanted to spend a lazy afternoon in bed with her, just holding her, just being with her.

It wasn't what she was used to. Wasn't what she thought she'd like. But, she realized, if there was ever a time to try it out, it would be now.

Hook - no, Killian - was smiling down at her, not even worried that she'd pulled away. He wasn't expecting her to run. This was his dream and she wouldn't run from him in his dreams, which is what made her mind up to give herself these few moments with him. Pulling her arm back from around him, she reached up and cupped his cheek gently, smiling when he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. His features were a picture of pure contentment, which was surprisingly in sync with how she felt right now. She knew she should be scared, that she had to figure out what was happening and why, but she felt awfully relaxed. It might be the dream and Killian's influence on it that had her so calm, but whatever the reason was, she was willing to let her walls drop for him, just for a minute.

Turning his head, he pressed his lips against the palm of her hand, opening his eyes to watch her. Encouraged by the warmth in his eyes, Emma brushed her hand lightly through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead and flexing her fingers across the back of his head before she pulled him the short distance towards her. She kissed him softly, her lips barely touching his at first, loving his soft sigh of satisfaction. He gathered her closer again, their bodies pressed together from chest to hip and their legs intertwined, but even when the kiss deepened it didn't feel overly sexual - they were still both too satisfied for that. They kissed slowly, lazily, like they had no further wish than to explore each other.

Killian's fingers ran down her spine, causing her to shiver again and she pulled away from the kiss to catch her breath, pressing her forehead against his neck. He continued caressing her, up and down her back in a way that made her want to melt into him. She felt his lips against her temple and pressed her against his shoulder chastely, running her hand down his back in an imitation of his movements. Flattening her hand against his back, she moved it slowly over his skin, wanting to know what he felt like, what it felt like to love him.

The first time she brushed over a line of raised skin she tried to ignore it, tried to focus on how good his muscles felt underneath his skin when he shifted slightly, but then she found another, and another. Sitting up with the intention of rolling him onto his stomach so that she could see his back, she froze when her eyes landed on his chest, realizing that although she'd been so close to him for the last few minutes, she hadn't actually gotten a proper look at him while he was naked. Pushing him onto his back instead, she straddled his hips and splayed her hands across his chest, frowning at the number of scars that she could touch without moving her hands.

She knew that he'd lived a much longer life than she could fathom, and for most of that he'd been a pirate, but she still hadn't given any thought to what marks of that kind from life he might bear. Feeling a heaviness in his stomach from thinking of the things he must have been through, she let her eyes meet his, her teeth digging into her lower lip.

He was watching her with an expression of confused surprise, but when he saw her face it darkened and turned bitter. 'Emma,' he said, his voice strained, the first words that had been spoken breaking the peace between them. He took her wrists in his hands and gently pulled them away from him, tightening his grip only when she struggled against him. 'No.'

He let her pull out of his grasp but before her hands could return to his skin, it was covered by a thin, black shirt. She frowned at him, annoyed, but when she saw the carefully blank look on his face as he stared back at her, a little defiant, she let her irritation go, her frown fading.

Smoothing her hands over his chest anyway, she pushed them up until one gripped onto his shoulder and the other moved around to thread into the hair at the back of his head. She leaned down over him, kissing him slowly but thoroughly, and after a moment his hands came to settle on her hips. She pressed her body right down onto his, not intending to arouse him but for him to just feel that she was there.

When she pulled away she cupped his face with both of her hands. 'Let me see,' she said, her voice gentle so that he knew he could deny her if he wanted to.

His brow twitched and drew together, his eyes squeezing closed. 'You don't have to -'

'I want to know you,' she said quickly, and his eyes snapped open. They bore into her, just like they always did, demanding to know all of her secrets, oh, so expressive. He told her she was the open book, but right now she could read his fear on his face, as plain as day. 'Please, I want to know all of you.'

She held his gaze firmly, not wanting to push him but to convince him that she meant it, that she wanted him, too. After a few seconds it was warm skin that she could feel beneath her instead of the soft shirt, and she dropped her head to press her lips against his shoulder. He felt so stiff beneath her, so tense, and she only wanted to sooth him.

Shifting down his body, she ran a finger lightly over the first scar that she came to, the skin a faint pink and slightly raised. 'What happened to you?' she whispered.

'Pirate,' he said, his voice strained.

Lifting her head, she raised an eyebrow at him. 'Will you tell me about it?'

For a moment, his eyes looked haunted, and then he dropped his head back onto the pillow, taking most of his face out of her view. 'I don't remember most of them,' he told her, but she waited patiently for him to continue. 'That one was from a member of my crew,' he said with a sigh. 'Thought he could be captain if he got rid of me. Didn't get very far.'

She moved onto another one, the remains of a long gash across his side. 'This one?' She kissed her way across the scar.

'A Lost Boy. Rufio. He got his, in the end.'

There were many others, criss-crossing his skin all over. Moving back up his body, she pressed a kiss to the mark on his cheek. 'And this one?'

His body had relaxed under her touch and now that she was lying atop him properly again his arm came around her waist, the other hand cupping her cheek. She couldn't feel fingers against her lower back and wondered if maybe he felt safe enough with her now, too, to be himself. When she pulled away she saw that there was a flicker of light back into his eyes and the corner of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. 'I got that one in a bar fight,' he told her, his voice more confident now that the subject wasn't quite so harsh. 'I was in a few of those, in my day,' he added, winking at her.

Emma smiled at him broadly, relieved that he seemed happy again, and comfortable with her. 'I love you,' she told him, smiling again when she realized that it was the first time that she'd told him that without him saying it first, at least when she had control of herself, anyway.

Before she could see the reaction of his face he pulled her to him, capturing her mouth with his and pressing them even closer together. Somehow, he seemed to know how much it meant for her.

* * *

_Chop, chop, chop_.

Emma paused, looking from the knife in her hand to the tomato in the other before landing on the bowl in front of her. What kind of fantasy had her making salad? That was _all kinds_ of wrong.

Looking around the room, she quickly realized that she had no clue where she was, but it didn't look like any place she'd been to before. She was standing at a small bench in what was apparently a kitchen, but it appeared to be missing a lot of the appliances that she was used to. As in, all of them. There was a small fireplace behind her with what looked like some kind of stove above it, and a jumble of pots and pans beside it. The room wasn't as well lit as she was used to from a kitchen, the only light coming from the open window in front of her. Peering out curiously, she could make out what looked like a vegetable garden and, beyond that, forest.

She knew where she was, then. The dense forest outside combined with there not being a single modern thing in sight told her she was in the Enchanted Forest. But where was Killian?

Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned around, determined this time to try and figure out what was going on and how to get out of it and save Killian, but it wasn't the pirate who turned the corner and came into view. The young man was tall with brown hair, dark eyes and an easy smile. He would have been in his late teens, she thought, and looked remarkably like -

The knife slipped out of her grip, clattering dully on the hard wood floor. '_Henry?'_

Henry paused, frowning at her. 'Are you all right?'

Sure, she was fine, except for the strong tightening in her chest. She pushed down the urge to take him in her arms, to smooth her hands over his face, shocked by the sight of him. Was this what he'd really look like at that age, or was this just Killian's imagining of it? But if Killian wasn't here, was this then _her_ imagining of him?

Did this mean that Killian's hopes for them for the future involved Henry, too?

'I'm fine,' she managed, forcing a quick smile.

He eyed her doubtfully. 'Are you sure? You can't tell me off for sneaking up on you, you were looking right at me when I walked in. You could have dropped that knife right into your foot.'

Only then remembering the knife on the ground, she started to bend down to pick it up, but Henry grabbed her elbow, stopping her. 'I got it,' he said, his voice a lot deeper than she was used to. She started to protest but he was quicker than her, bending down and picking up the knife, placing it on the counter. 'You should be resting,' he told her imploringly.

'Resting?' Why would she need to be resting? One hand pushed her hair out of her eyes while the other landed on her stomach. On her large, very pregnant stomach, she realized, eyes going wide as she looked down at herself. She was wearing the type of old fashioned style dress that she assumed one would wear when "with child" in this setting, but without all of the gaudy bells and whistles that she'd imagined whenever Mary Margaret had told her about what her life would have been had she been able to grow up a princess.

'I know you don't like it when he tells you what to do, but he's only looking out for you,' Henry told her, dropping his voice as though against eavesdroppers. 'And it wouldn't hurt if you did slow down a bit.'

It took her a few seconds to realize that she should probably respond to that, and with something more than _holy shit I'm pregnant!_ But still, she ran her hands over her stomach slowly, giving herself another moment to take it in. This was another thing that she hadn't considered for herself - another child, a chance to raise a baby like she hadn't given herself with Henry. Although she knew that she was doing the right thing for Henry when she gave him up, missing that chance had haunted her more than she'd been willing to admit, especially after seeing what an amazing kid he had turned out to be.

She hadn't thought about it as something that she might actually have, but now...

Henry was watching her curiously, and she blinked quickly a few times to find her focus. 'Um, I'm not even doing that much,' she said, waving her arm toward the bench.

'Yeah, well. Just take it easy.'

'Take what easy?' Killian stepped into the room, striding across the kitchen to kiss her on the cheek. 'You're not pushing yourself too hard, are you?'

She wanted to roll her eyes at him, she really did, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the toddler who was propped on Killian's hip. Killian's arm wrapped around him, holding the small boy close. One of the boy's hands was in his mouth, the other clutching at Killian's shirt. His hair was blonde like hers, but when he turned his head to smile at Emma she saw the deep blueness of his eyes and she knew without having to ask that this was their son.

'She's not, I'm just warning her,' Henry said, saving her from an answer with a smirk at Killian that looked entirely too familiar. Grabbing the bowl of salad, he disappeared through the door into another room.

Emma's attention had barely waivered from the boy in Killian's arms. Reaching out slowly, she brushed her fingers over his cheek, marvelling at how soft his skin was.

'Are you all right, love?' Killian asked, and she glanced up at him only quickly enough to see that he was frowning before her eyes were back on her son - their son. 'You seem distracted.'

'I'm fine,' she mumbled, feeling an uncertain smile spreading over her face as the boy's hand released Killian's shirt and wrapped around a lock of her hair. 'I just - oh!' She cut off, both hands flying to her stomach as she felt that baby _move._

She laughed in surprise, unable to help herself and she didn't try to hide the tears in her eyes when she grinned up at Killian. _Yes. Yes, this is something that I want. I want this, I want a family._ 'I love you,' she told him, her heart in her throat and her emotion in her words.

He stepped closer again, smiling easily as he bent to press another kiss to her cheek but she turned her head, catching his lips with hers gently before pressing them to the soft hair of their son, wrapping her arms around the two of them.

* * *

She was lying in a bed again, the same one from earlier by the feel of it, but this time she was on her stomach, her arms folded beneath her head and her legs spread wide. Turning her head further, she could see Killian sitting between her legs, as naked as she was, her foot in his hands. Confused, she propped herself up on her elbows and tried to twist around but his hand was on her lower back before she couldn't move very far, holding her in place. 'Can't you just keep still?' he chuckled, the easiness of his laughter making her slowly lower herself back down onto the bed.

Killian returned his attentions to her foot and she realized that he wasn't just holding it - he was massaging it. She tried to hold it back, she really did, but she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up past her lips.

_Captain Hook was giving her a foot massage. _Now, she'd seen everything.

He stopped again, one hand holding her ankle while the other flattened against the base of her foot. 'Are you ticklish?' he asked after a moment.

She was, normally, but she hadn't felt so under his touch just now. 'Yes,' she told him, as good an excuse as any right now.

Lifting her leg higher, he placed a kiss onto her ankle. 'I'll keep that in mind,' he said, his lips moving against her skin. 'For another time.'

Another time, or another dream? How long would they be stuck like this? She had no idea how they were supposed to wake up or if it was up to her to make that happen. She tried to sit up again but the moment that she made that her intention, her body became heavy, resisting her movements. _Great._

'Killian, there's something we need to talk about,' she said, the words feeling thick on her tongue.

His hands moved up her leg to massage her calf, his fingers digging gently into her muscles, and god but it felt amazing. 'Later,' he murmured, the words barely reaching her ears. 'I want to enjoy you for a while.'

Her body stiffened, but out of her own surprise. Did that mean that he knew what was going on? She knew she had do start doing something to stop this. 'Killian, this isn't real.' She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

'It's perfectly real. You're perfect,' he whispered against her knee, his breath hot against her skin. She wanted to protest, to push him to find out how much he was aware of, but then his hands wrapped around the lower part of her thigh, drawing a reluctant moan out of her before she could stop herself. As his fingers crept higher, her mind became more and more clouded with desire, her body tensing the closer he got to where she suddenly _needed_ his touch, but as soon as she was sure his next move would take him there, he switched his grip to the other leg, shuffling back to start at her foot.

She groaned in frustration, her previous worries forgotten, but all she got in response was a quiet chuckle. She did her best not to react to him like he clearly wanted her to, pressing her face deep into the pillow, but when he neared the juncture of her thighs again and slowly dragged his nails down her inner thigh, she couldn't help but buck her hips back slightly, silently begging for his touch.

'Are you enjoying your massage, love?' he asked teasingly, pulling his hands away from her legs and resting them on her hips, holding her still.

She wasn't sure if he could see how much he was affecting her, but she was sure that the bloody bastard knew. 'Why are you stopping?' she asked, hating how needy her voice was.

'I'm not stopping,' he told her, climbing up her body and settling his legs on either side of her ass, straddling her. 'I'm just being _thorough_.' His hands stretched across her lower back, pushing down into her skin as he worked them up to her shoulders, leaning over to begin working them properly. 'Relax, darling,' he purred into her ear.

And she couldn't help but do exactly that, her body turning to jelly underneath his touch. Most people didn't put as much strength into it as she preferred, but somehow he seemed to know exactly what she liked, the perfect amount of pressure into all of her sore spots. Where his massage of her legs had mostly riled her up and made her tense, this one leaked all of that tension out of her, loosening all of her muscles and relaxing her like she hadn't known in a long, long time. He alternated between using his fingers, the heel of his hand, and his knuckles, and once she even felt cold metal dragging gently down her spine, making her shiver from the contrast to his warm hands. Her sigh would have told him that she wasn't averse to it, but after a moment she felt two hands on her again, working their way down her sides, just firm enough to not tickle her. Her heart rate had slowed back down, but when his fingers brushed against the sides of her breasts it jumped right back up again.

_Was this a fantasy for him, then? _she wondered idly.

_Of course it is,_ the hidden part of her mind whispered back. _He loves you._

His hands moved to caress her hips, and she jumped slightly in surprise when she felt a hardness pressing against the top of her inner thigh. Before she could think too much about it he was pressing into her, adjusting his position so he was sitting over her legs, lining himself up and sliding the first inch of himself inside of her. Her body acted automatically, arching back into him and they both groaned as the movement caused him to sink deeper into her. Leaning forward, he settled his weight lightly on her back, keeping her still as he slowly, slowly pushed into her.

He filled her up, stretching her almost painfully to start with, the angle causing him to be a tighter fit than last time, and when he was fully inside her he gave them a few seconds to adjust to the feeling. Rolling his hips against hers a few times, he pulled out almost all of the way before sinking back into her again, his thrusts long and slow. 'You feel incredible, Emma,' he said, the words muffled slightly when he buried his face against her shoulder.

It wasn't long before she felt a warmth starting to build inside of her, and she did her best to rock her hips back against his with each of his slow thrusts, enjoying the sounds that he made when she did so. Killian's mouth landed on her shoulder, kissing and sucking and biting, once again knowing exactly the right places to bring her so close to the edge so quickly. She wasn't sure if it was the dream but their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly. One of his arms slid underneath her to her breast, catching her nipple and rubbing it between his thumb and his forefinger and she bit down hard on her lip, trying to hold back her orgasm because dear God, but she didn't want this to end.

He seemed to know that she was nearing her peak, and he started fucking into her a little more forcefully, his other arm snaking around her waist to lift her hips slightly. She gave up trying to hold back her cries, giving herself into the feeling as he hit that perfect spot with every thrust and then she was coming, her walls squeezing him so tightly that he let out a sharp cry and paused before plunging into her harder, chasing his own release and drawing out hers.

She was still coming down when his body went limp above her, his hot breath spreading out across her neck and his arms tightening around her, like he wasn't quite ready to let her go.

She wasn't, either.

* * *

Not all of the dreams were about her pleasure, however.

Killian's hand tightened in her hair, holding her still as he fucked her mouth, his head thrown back in pleasure one minute and watching her the next. She was kneeling in front of him, one hand steadying herself against his bare thigh and the other wrapped loosely around the base of his cock, rubbing the heel of her hand against his balls as she did so. He was leaning back against something, a desk, she thought, his free hand gripping tightly onto the edge. A steady stream of curses and encouragement spilled from his mouth.

'Oh, Emma, just like that. Gods, your mouth feels so good on me. So wet and hot, better than I could have imagined.' His hand loosened in her hair, giving her control and she withdrew almost all of the way, sucking hard on the tip of him before working him back into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him and causing his hips to buck forward. The look on his face was deliciously wretched. '_Fuck_, Emma.'

* * *

Taking in a deep breath, Emma let her lungs fill with the fresh air, the taste of it salty on her tongue, finding herself on the deck of the _Jolly _once more. The ship was heavily manned again, and although she had a feeling that most of the men were the same as the last time she'd been on deck, their dress implied that by now they'd given up their good lives for the life of piracy.

It wasn't as hard to find Killian this time, since the first place she looked to was the helm. Just as previously, he wasn't alone, but she frowned deeply, confused as to who the boy might be that stood beside him. He looked to be about fourteen, maybe fifteen, looking up at Killian with an easy grin, his hair long enough to fall into his eyes. Killian turned to smile down at the boy with obvious affection, ruffling his hair in a way that would have been cheesy if it didn't look so endearing.

Emma stepped up to them slowly, unsure if she'd be visible since it was quickly apparent that this dream wasn't about her, and when she came into their line of sight but got no reaction from Killian she was proved right. Now that her mind wasn't hazed by sex and lust, she knew that it was about time that she try and properly talk to Killian, to see if she could actually speak to him about what was happening and whether he'd know anything about how to get them out, but apparently the dreams were working against her again, stopping her once more from being able to talk to him. Instead, she leant against the nearby railing, watching them curiously.

'How's about a turn at the helm, lad?' Killian was asking him, and the boy's eyes lit up, reaching forward to wrap his hands around the spokes of the wheel.

'You'll have to tell me,' the boy said, looking suddenly hesitant.

Killian nodded to the side, tapping his fingers against something carved into the wooden surface in front of them. 'It's all right, you'll learn soon enough. Take her a notch to port.'

The boy followed Killian's instructions and the pirate clapped him on the back fondly. 'You'll make a fine pirate one day, lad,' Killian said, his pride clear in his voice.

Who was this boy? He was clearly somebody who Killian strongly cared about, but she hadn't really thought that his was the type of life to normally keep a child around. Unless... could this be Killian's son?

It should surprise her less, really, considering who he was. Pirate captain, and all that. And even though she didn't try to fool herself that she knew even the slightest thing about his past considering how long he'd lived, she felt like she should have known if he'd fathered a bastard.

'It doesn't matter to me if I make a fine pirate,' the boy was saying, looking up at Killian earnestly. 'I just want to be a good man. I don't want to grow up to be a coward.'

Killian's answering smile held more than a touch of sadness. 'I promise you, my boy, that -'

'Are you sure that this is a good idea?'

Both Killian and the boy looked up quickly, matching grins on their faces, and Emma spun around just in time to watch a woman walk through her. She gasped at the sensation, like a coldness running through her, but the woman appeared not to notice anything of the kind. Taking a deep breath, Emma shook the feeling from her limbs before turning around to see Killian holding his arm out for the woman, wrapping it around her shoulders when she tucked herself against his side. She felt a twinge of jealousy at how close and familiar they seemed to be, especially since she'd only just left Killian a few minutes ago with a lazy grin on his lips and the taste of his seed on hers. She knew that this was only a dream, perhaps a memory at most, but the idea of sharing suddenly didn't sit very well with her.

'I can do it,' the boy said defensively.

'Aye, he can,' Killian agreed. 'And she'll look after him until he has the experience.'

Emma's eyes narrowed, looking at the woman closely. She wore tight fitting trousers and a corset above a flowing shirt, her dark curly hair falling loosely down her back and blowing gently in the wind. Killian smiled down at her casually but she could feel the wistfulness in the air, the longing, and suddenly Emma knew exactly who the woman was.

And if the woman was Milah, that meant the boy was Baelfire.

Neal.

All thoughts of jealousy left her, replaced immediately by a sadness that pulled painfully at her heart. This was the life that he'd spent hundreds of years chasing, the loss that he'd spent all of that time trying to avenge. She knew that his love for Milah had been strong enough to span lifetimes, but she hadn't realized just how much he felt at the loss of the idea of this family, as well.

_Does Neal know that he misses him so much?_

She knew that there was a history between them that wasn't just about Neal's parents, but it had never been the right time to ask, and she hadn't been sure that she'd had the right to know.

Killian pressed his lips against Milah's hair, the two of them watching young Neal as he steered the ship under the occasional instruction of the Captain. Then Killian turned to Milah, and the look in his eyes was something that she only saw one other time.

When he was looking at her.

'I love you,' he said, his heart shining in his eyes.

'I love you,' Milah told him, smiling warmly at him.

Emma wrapped her arms around her stomach, wishing she could wrap her arms around him. 'I love you, Killian' she whispered.

**Review?**


	3. Chapter 3

She was spinning, spinning, spinning.

No, she wasn't, she realized as a hand landed on her waist, steadying her. She was twirling.

She was dancing.

Her hand clung onto the cold curve of Killian's hook and the other clutched at his shoulder when he caught her, tightening her grip as she tried to orientate herself. She'd been moving smoothly until now, but as her mind caught up with her body she lost all of the grace that he'd imagined for her, stumbling into him and almost knocking him over. He chuckled, tightening his grip on her and keeping them upright. 'Steady there, Swan.'

'Why the hell am I dancing?' she wondered aloud, the words blurting out before she could stop herself.

He didn't seem to find her question totally out of place, or at least he was willing to play along. She still couldn't figure out how much he was aware of. 'Because your father has thrown a ball, and princesses are required to dance at balls.'

She was so taken aback that her feet got mixed up again and she tried to stop, but Killian guided her onward. 'Why do you want me to be a princess?' she asked him, looking at him incredulously.

He raised his eyebrow straight back at her. 'It's not about what I want, Emma. It's about who you are. And I'll take you however you are, and only hope that you'll let me be a part of it.'

And there it was, hidden behind his casual smile. He wanted to be a part of her world and even though it hadn't looked like this before, he clearly saw her as royalty. As balls, as dancing. As everything that he felt outside of. 'What if I don't want to be a princess?' she asked, stepping back from him and stopping in the middle of the ballroom, uncaring of the faceless people gliding around them.

Killian regarded her for a few seconds, and she couldn't tell if his half smile was indulgent or sad. 'It's in your blood, darling. It's who you are.'

'It doesn't define me,' she said shortly.

'It does not,' he agreed, stepping forward to close the distance between them. 'Just as this doesn't define me,' he continued, holding out his hook to her. After a moment she wrapped her fingers around it again and let him return his hand to her waist, but only rested her free hand lightly on his chest, reluctant to encourage further dancing and make a fool of herself. He dropped his head, brushing his nose up along her jaw. 'You are so much more than just a princess,' he told her, his breath warm against her ear. She couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. 'Let me show you.'

Her breathing was unsteady when she wrapped her arm around his neck, gripping onto his shoulder probably more tightly than was strictly necessary, and she didn't know whether it was from anxiety or from the way her body responded so automatically to his closeness. Listening to his murmured instructions and the quiet rhythm of his voice, she tried to keep her steps in time with his as he started moving. She tried to watch her feet but couldn't see them beneath the bulky skirts of the ridiculous gown that she wore, and she kept either stepping on his toes or stumbling over her own feet. Every second increased her frustration. _What's the point of this stupid dream, anyway?_

'How the hell are you so good at this, pirate?' she snapped.

'Emma, look at me,' he said softly, and she reluctantly raised her eyes to his. 'That's it, just keep your eyes right on me. And relax,' he implored her, pressing his hand slightly firmer against her lower back.

But she was too highly strung, too frustrated with herself to just relax. 'I can't,' she said helplessly, and she wasn't just talking about the dancing.

'You can,' he insisted, the intensity of his sharp blue gaze telling her that he knew the fear behind her words.

'You don't understand,' she said, squeezing her eyes shut for a second when her shoe crushed his, but he gave no sign of discomfort. 'I don't know how to be this person that they expect me to be. Their Saviour, their princess. It's just... ever since I came to Storybrooke, I've had to be so responsible for everybody,' she admitted, opening her eyes and finding a meagre bit of comfort in the understanding in his. Maybe she just needed this moment. She knew that she had to find a way out but she was tired, she was drained, and she couldn't seem to hold the words back. 'I've had to try and be a good example for Henry, and as the sheriff. Everyone's had so many expectations of me as Mary Margaret and David's daughter... as Snow White and Prince David's daughter... as the Saviour.' She dropped her eyes again, staring dully at the buttons on his jacket. He wore clothing similar to the uniform he'd worn in his dreams of being with Liam, but it seemed finer, as though this were either a more formal dress or he was of a higher rank. Or both. It seemed he was quite eager to be accepted, to join in on the bizarre court that they would no doubt make if they ever returned to the Enchanted Forest, but all she wanted to do was hide in the shadows and let someone else handle it.

_If you told him that, he'd hide in the shadows with you._

Emma swallowed, trying to stomp down on the uneasiness in her stomach. After all of this, why was she still nervous about opening up to him? 'I don't know how to be the person you expect me to be,' she said, her voice small.

He was quiet for a moment, simply looking at her. 'Emma. It's you who misunderstand. I don't want you to be anything but who you are. I just want you to embrace who you are, and be happy for it.'

'I don't want this responsibility anymore. All of these people looking up to me...'

'These people look to you because they respect you, and they look at you as part of the family that leads them. I thought you wanted a family?' His tone was far from condescending.

'I do. I just never asked for everything that came along with it... A crown and balls and... all of these people!'

A small smile started to spread across his lips and finally, thankfully, he slowed to a gentle rocking motion, side to side, simple, not unlike something that she recognized (even if she didn't dance). 'What people?' he asked her, tilting his head to the side.

She glanced around quickly, starting and pulling away from him when she found them alone now in the large ballroom, but he pulled her right back to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and then his around her waist. 'Just dance with me, my love,' he whispered in her ear, pressing their bodies together deliciously. 'The world can't touch us here.'

_The world can't touch us here._

It was a wonderful thought.

Smiling, she relaxed into him and danced.

* * *

Although some of the decorations and furniture was different, Emma immediately recognized the house to be the same one as from the dream when she was pregnant. She looked around carefully, trying to figure out what was different this time.

She wasn't in the kitchen but in the main room, standing beside a large, sturdy table, wearing a more casual skirt and tunic, but still something that was mostly inclined to life in the Enchanted Forest. She was alone, Killian nowhere in sight, and she wondered whether this house was a place where he'd lived once or just something his mind had created. It wasn't anything like she'd thought to picture herself living in before, but she found that she kind of liked it. It was simple. Quiet. Peaceful. In Killian's dreams they were together, she had her family, her parents, Henry. More children.

She found herself smiling, tracing her finger lightly along the grain of the wood.

She liked it here. The only trials she had to face were her own feelings and fears, and somehow facing them with Killian had made it all seem so... easy.

The floorboards creaked quietly, breaking her out of her thoughts just before arms snaked around her waist, settling around her stomach and pulling her back against a hard chest. 'They'll be here soon, love.'

The embrace felt familiar enough that she knew immediately who it was, and she could obviously recognize his voice, but it sounded different somehow. Maybe it was the way it was muffled in her hair. 'I'm looking forward to it,' she said awkwardly, knowing that she had to say something, but then she frowned at the sound of her own voice. It sounded off, in the same way that Killian's did, but she couldn't place it.

'I still can't rightly believe it,' he said, pressing his lips against her neck. 'I never thought I'd have the chance to be a father, let alone a grandfather.' Emma froze, her breath catching in her throat and her hands tightening over his. 'I think I'm actually starting to feel my age.' He chuckled against her skin.

Slowly, she pulled away enough that she could turn in his arms, her movements in contrast to the speed of her racing heart. There was a heaviness in her stomach that felt a little like dread but more like being overwhelmed, and she was afraid to see and confirm what her ears told her, the obvious implications behind his words.

She kept her eyes low until she was facing him fully, his arms loosely wrapped around her waist and she settled her hands on his chest. Taking a deep breath, trying and failing to calm herself, she finally raised her eyes to his face.

It was him, her Killian, her Hook. She could see him in his eyes, in the twitch of his lips as he watched her, the slight raise of his brow. But his hair was heavily streaked with grey, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled deeper, more pronounced as wrinkles.

She ran her hands up his chest, lifting them to cup his face, rubbing her thumbs across his cheeks and smoothing the lined skin. Her eyes flittered all over, trying to take in as much of him as she could, not sure what she was looking for but searching anyway, but she hesitated when she saw her own hands. Weathered, and wrinkled, and _old_.

Closing her eyes, she felt twin tears fall down her cheeks and started to pull away to wipe them clear, but his hand and his hook came up and wrapped around her wrists, holding her close. She wondered quickly whether he still had his hook here because he truly didn't want to let go of it, or whether he simply couldn't picture a future without it. She wanted to turn away, to hide behind the last pieces of fear and loneliness that she was clinging to, but this dream and what it meant threatened to pull of those pieces apart.

Killian lowered his head and pressed his lips to the palm of one hand and then the other, lingering and then rubbing his cheek against it. 'Emma...' he began, his voice trailing off as the slight smile turned into a frown. He didn't ask the question, didn't need to, she realized. He already knew her so well, better than anyone else. How well would they know each other in thirty years?

She knew that she should tell him yes, she was fine, she was great. She should ask him about the dreams, tell him about it if he didn't know, figure a way to get out of there. But... 'Have we had a good life?' she asked him instead, needing to know, her voice breaking with the warmth, the heaviness, the _love_ that was too much, too much.

Smiling at her, he let go of her wrist to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. 'The best, love,' he promised, and he looked at her like... well, just like he looked at her now. She could feel her heart breaking.

She tried to hold back her tears but they fell regardless, and Killian pulled her into his arms properly, one arm around her waist and the other in her hair, cradling her head against his shoulder as she cried on him. She knew that it wasn't real but right then she didn't care. She didn't want to go back, didn't need to - she had her happy ending right here.

There was a knock at the door but neither of them moved straight away. Emma wasn't ready to let go and Killian seemed to know that, just like he knew when she needed him, when she needed space. How to make her smile when things looked the worst, how to show his support without crowding her.

How to win her heart so incredibly thoroughly.

It wasn't until the person at the door knocked again that she reluctantly let her arms drop and he stepped away, giving her hand a quick squeeze and her forehead a brief kiss before he moved to answer the door. She rubbed her fingertips underneath her eyes, grimacing at how much looser her skin was, completely forgetting for the moment who was likely to be at the door. When she looked up again Killian was stepping back from the door, making room for the people who piled into the house, more people than she'd been expecting. Two couples who were roughly the same age as she was in her own life, one of the women with a heavily blanketed baby in her arms, and another couple who were slightly older.

She didn't need an introduction to know who they were. The older man, perhaps forty, looked familiar in the way that Killian did, almost as if he were the father of the person that she knew he really was, although Henry didn't look as much like Neal as she'd thought he would. A blonde haired man with blue eyes stood close by the woman with the baby (her _grandchild?_), the same colouring as the child they'd had in Killian's earlier dream.

Somehow, she knew that the other woman was her daughter. Dark hair, light eyes. Her mother's chin.

Emma held back as they settled into the small room. Killian took the baby and she was torn between watching him and the loving look on his face, and taking in her children, all real and all grown up. She couldn't help but be surprised by the easiness and naturalness of the situation and how everyone seemed to interact with each other. This was family. This was home.

This was something other people had.

_Maybe we could have a life together,_ she thought sadly, wrapping her arms around her stomach. _Maybe we could be a little happy. But surely not like this. _She'd grown up alone and yeah, maybe she had some people now who she could count on, her parents, a few friends, Henry, but this was too much. This surely couldn't be for her, and she didn't want to let it go.

_No._ Straightening her shoulders, she let her arms drop as she fought against the part of her that just wanted to accept it, to stay stuck in these dreams. They might be happy, they might be everything she'd never known she'd _needed_. But it wasn't real.

And they could really have this life, she realized. She wouldn't kid herself that there wouldn't be obstacles like in every other part of her life, but if she let herself believe in it then there was no reason why it couldn't be hers. Even if she had to fight for it, even if it wouldn't be easy, she deserved a chance at this. Killian deserved it.

It was time to wake up.

She took a step towards him -

* * *

- and stumbled, barely catching herself by grabbing onto Killian's arm. He caught her arm, steadying her, eyebrow raised in amusement. 'Careful there, Swan.'

Emma looked around quickly, trying to get her bearings. It looked like they were in a courtyard, a combat practice yard in a castle by the look of it, or so she thought from what she'd seen on movies. A few people stood around the edges, inspecting weaponry or watching those fighting. Among the latter was a dark haired girl and a light haired boy, having at each other with swords that she hoped were blunt. They looked to be in their late teens, perhaps, and from her quick glance it was impossible to tell who had the upper hand.

Although she felt the pull inside her to watch them - the need to _know_ - she made herself turn back to Killian, her movement forcing him to let go of her arm. She'd put it off too many times before and had found herself distracted and caught in the moment of the dream, which she realized was probably the purpose of them. If they stayed in here too long, enjoying their what-could-be's, then Killian would die, and she had absolutely no idea what would happen to her. Whatever it would be, she knew for certain that she didn't want to find out what it would be like without him.

'Killian, you have to wake up,' she said hurriedly, the words coming a lot easier than she thought they would.

She was convinced that a part of him had to know what was going on, but the look that he gave her was of utter confusion, with a hint of concern. 'Emma, I am awake,' he told her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'Are you well?'

_I'm fine,_ she snapped, or tried to, but the words that came out weren't the ones that she'd intended. She found herself blinking up at him, frowning and lifting her hand to touch her forehead. 'I don't know,' she said instead. 'I feel a little lightheaded all of a sudden. Perhaps I should lie down awhile.'

His expression softened just as she felt panic starting to rise inside her. _No!_ She couldn't lose herself again now! She yelled and screamed, hammering her fists against the binds of her own body as she leaned into Killian when he wrapped an arm firmly around her. 'I'll walk you to our room, just let me let them know,' he said, nodding toward their children.

_No, don't you get it? We've wasted enough time, you could die._

'I can walk myself, you know,' she said instead, her voice wry but calm.

'I know you can,' he said with a wink, keeping her by his side.

_It's all well and good to have these hopes, but what's the point if we don't get to live them?_

She rested her head against his chest and he rubbed his hand over her arm absentmindedly, the fingers of his other hand twining with hers. She squeezed them reassuringly.

_No! Not reassuringly! There is _nothing_ to feel assured about right now!_ If she could have, she would have cried in frustration. How many more dreams would they have to go through, get to go through before he succumbed to the curse? Unable to find a way but refusing to be beaten right when she'd finally accepted the idea of a _future,_ she gathered every bit of strength she could and pushed out against herself. _Damn it, Killian, I don't care how much I want this, we can't stay here. I have to get back to you, I have to get back to Henry. I'm - _'not done!'

The words fell from her lips at the same time as her arms flung out, pushing him violently away just like she'd been trying to push at her bindings. Killian steadied himself quickly, opening his mouth to probably ask her what the hell she was doing, but she didn't waste any time, not quite believing that she had control again and not wanting to waste it while she did. 'Killian, you have to listen to me,' she said, the words almost coming out in a jumble as she tried to get them out as quickly as possible. 'It's not real, none of this is. We're on your ship, you're cursed and I'm trying to wake you up.' _And failing miserably,_ she thought, but pushed it aside firmly.

He was frowning at her like she truly was unwell. 'Emma, I'm quite aware of where I am,' he told her, but she thought she could see the confidence waiver in his eyes slightly.

'I don't know if you're aware or not, but it's not here,' she told him, stepping back up to him and grabbing both of his hands in hers, holding them firmly between them. 'You jumped in front of a curse meant for Henry because you're a damned idiot, and now we're both stuck here unless you wake up. This place isn't real.'

'Of course it's -' He cut off sharply when he glanced away from her, and she followed his gaze to see that the courtyard was now empty. His eyes widened in horror. 'Wait, wait. Where did they go?' He stepped away from her, pulling out of her grasp and striding briskly to the centre of the yard, his head spinning this way and that. 'Where did you go?'

Emma watched him walk away from her, feeling her heart sinking for him but she knew now that it couldn't be helped. She'd played along with his dreams for far too long without seriously thinking about the consequences, long enough that she wondered if that was part of the effects of the curse as well. She took a step to follow him but stopped when he spun sharply on his heel, approaching her with panic in his eyes. 'Where did they go? What happened to them?'

'Nothing happened to them, Killian, because they weren't really here. None of this is really happening.'

He closed the distance between them before she could blink, grabbing her upper arms with his hands and holding her almost uncomfortably tight. 'It feels bloody real to me,' he said, his voice almost low enough to be a growl and a hint of anger in his eyes. 'You bring them back to me.'

And it wasn't just anger, but desperation that she saw as he stared back at her intensely. 'I can't,' she told him reluctantly, biting down hard on her lip when his face fell so suddenly. 'Not right now. But Killian, don't you get that the only way to have these things for real is to wake up with me? Please, it's going to be all right, I just need you to trust me.'

He was hesitating, a look of horror dawning anew on his face, but it took her a moment to realize that his attention had dropped to her arm. Or rather, where his left hand had previously held her arm. Instead of his hand, the curve of his hook curved around her upper arm, holding her in place just as effectively and digging into her skin just slightly. He snatched it back, careful not to snag her with it, and stepped back from her again, his right hand closing around his other wrist and his face contorting in horror. 'No. No, no, no.'

She still wasn't sure how much he knew and how much he guessed, or how much he was hiding from himself, but she could definitely see recognition and a hint of understanding in his eyes. Planting herself in front of him once more, took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. 'Killian, please,' she said, her voice quiet but firm. 'I wouldn't lie to you. This world is a dream, but we can have all of this one day if you just believe in me right now. Please, just trust me.'

The panic faded from his eyes very slightly and that was enough for her. Pulling his head down, she pressed her lips hard against his.

* * *

Emma jolted awake with a start. It was the first time that she had the sensation of waking up since she'd first kissed Killian with the hope of breaking the curse, but she knew immediately that it wasn't over. She wasn't sure why this was different now, but this was definitely not one of Killian's hopes and dreams.

The air was hot, sweat breaking out over her body instantly, and she realized all too quickly that the ground that she lay on - large, white tiles - was scorching her. She scrambled to her feet quickly, shaking out her hands to try and ease the burns on them from the effort, and already felt the heat seeping uncomfortably through her shoes. She was breathing heavily - from fear, panic, confusion - and had to fight to take control of herself as the hot air burnt her throat.

What the hell was this place?

She glanced around quickly, trying to figure out her whereabouts and where Killian was. The room wasn't overly large, the only light coming from the numerous flames that seemed to burn from nothing, flickering taller than she was and moving across the ground with no apparent reason or direction. As she watched, they jumped closer and were too near before she could react. She darted away, but fell short when a wall of fire rose up in front of her, causing her to jump back.

The smell of burning hair reached her nostrils and she gathered her hair over her shoulder, twisting it and holding it close to her. The other went to her eyes, trying to shield them from some of the brightness of the flames.

She couldn't see Killian, but she was having trouble seeing past much of the fire, and smoke was starting to burn her eyes. He had to be here, right? Whether it was his creation or not, she was here because of him.

Unless she was here because she'd failed.

Refusing to believe that, she took a deep breath and tried to call out for him but her raw throat choked around the word, her cry coming out as a rasp. She swallowed, cleared her throat, tried again.

'Killian!'

There was a muffled noise to her left, but as soon as she tried to move towards it, the fires in front of her roared higher. Cursing, she darted around them, hissing when she felt the sudden heat on her arm that meant she hadn't been quick enough. She didn't stop, though, didn't even hesitate, because there was a figure slumped roughly against one of the pillars in front of her, the flames drawing nearer to him.

'Killian,' she said again, falling to her knees beside him and pulling him into a more upright position. He seemed heavier than he should, or maybe it was just that she was so unbelievably tired, but after a few seconds she had his back leaning properly against the column. He wasn't responding, but she could see his chest rising and falling. Thankfully, the flames seemed content to leave them be for the moment.

She lifted his face with one hand, looking him over quickly before she gave him a quick shake. 'Killian, wake up.' Biting her lip, she shook him harder, glancing around quickly to make sure they were still safe.

Finally he started to stir, raising his hand slowly to his head before his eyes snapped open, then widened as they fell on her. His whole body tensed and he started to push himself upwards but she pressed her hands down on his shoulders, keeping him down. 'Swan? What's going on?' he asked, his voice sounding as tired as she felt, but a lot more confused.

This could have just been another dream, albeit a strange one, but the heavily guarded look in his eyes told her that whatever this was, it wasn't like the others. 'You're trapped in a sleeping curse,' she told him quickly, hoping that she wouldn't lose herself again when she tried to tell him about it, but nothing changed expect for the awareness that sparked in his eyes.

'Emma,' he said slowly, pushing her hands away and straightening up. His gaze was suddenly far too knowing and she pulled her arms back, wrapping them around her stomach and sitting back on her heels. 'How are you here?'

She looked away quickly. Despite all of the moments that she'd just shared with him, it was different to know for sure that this was him, and this was her. 'I... ah...' Swallowing, she stared down at her feet. 'It wasn't like this last time.'

Killian was silent for a few seconds and she wasn't sure she got her meaning, but she didn't think she had it in her to say it out loud. After a moment she felt a hand close over hers and his hook pressed against her chin, forcing her to look up at him, the cool metal feeling pleasant in comparison to the hot air of the room. 'Did you try to wake me with True Love's Kiss?' he asked, his lips twitching up into a smirk.

Only he would find this an appropriate moment to be joking, but she couldn't find it in herself to laugh with him, or even roll her eyes like she normally would. 'I couldn't let you die,' she told him honestly, and his expression softened immediately. His arms came around her, pulling her into his lap and she pressed her face against his neck. As his grip on her tightened, his arm brushed against the burn on hers and she flinched back, turning to look at the blistering skin.

His eyes darkened as he stared at it. 'You're hurt,' he growled, looking at her with something almost like anger. 'You shouldn't be here.'

'And neither should you,' she said, not letting his harshness push her away. Turning back to him properly, she straddled his outstretched legs and took his face in both of her hands, needing to make him understand. 'You have to wake up, Killian,' she told him gently.

His lips parted and his brow raised slightly as if in surprise. His features straightened quickly and now it was his turn to look away. 'I don't know that I want to,' he whispered, like he was ashamed and hoped she wouldn't hear him.

And she wasn't surprised. She understood the draw of all of the happy endings, all of the possibilities that could be and many that couldn't. And now, she wasn't sure that her happy endings would look much different from his. 'I know,' she said quietly, brushing her thumb across his cheek comfortingly.

She could tell from his expression that he'd expected her to be angry, or at least confused, but he caught up fast. Shifting his weight slightly, he pulled her hands away from his face. 'You saw that? My... dreams?'

'I lived them,' she admitted reluctantly. She'd hoped that he wouldn't remember or wouldn't ask her, but she wasn't going to lie to save herself from some embarrassment. 'I couldn't always move or speak how I wanted, but I experienced it all.'

He looked embarrassed himself, for a moment, before horror washed over his face and he froze again. 'No,' he breathed, trying to push her off of him and scramble away but somehow she managed to keep him in place. 'Emma, I can't - I just - I am _so sorry_ -'

'Stop it,' she said. 'I might not have had control of myself or what happened for a lot of it, but I don't regret anything that I saw. Or anything that I did,' she added pointedly.

Killian watched her warily for a few seconds, as though he was trying to find evidence of a lie on her face, but she knew how well he could read her and that he'd find no dishonesty there. His hand and his hook landed on her thighs, his fingers digging into her through her jeans as though to convince himself them she was really there. 'I want those lives so badly,' he confessed, finally no longer looking at her with so much scrutiny, but it was replaced by such desolation that she felt her heart breaking.

But now wasn't the time to long for something different together. The room was getting hotter, and Emma had the feeling that they were running out of time. She was really starting to think that he might choose not to return with her, and that wasn't an acceptable option as far as she was concerned. 'I want them, too,' she told him, meaning it more than she thought she could. 'The only way that we can have them is if you wake up with me.' She wasn't going to even consider another option.

'I can have them if I stay here,' he said woodenly, forcing the idea on her anyway. Throwing his head back against the pillar, he squeezed his eyes shut as though he were blocking something out. 'Not all of them are possible,' he pointed out, shifting his hook where it rested on her thigh.

'But some of them are,' she said, her voice small. After a moment she took his hook in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it, wanting to show him that she'd take him however he was. 'I'm glad I got to meet your brother,' she said lightly, regretting it immediately when pain flashed across his face.

Opening his eyes, he looked at her once more. 'I'm sorry that you had to see that, with Bae and Milah -' His voice broke on her name and he didn't try to continue, his eyes pleading at her for something.

She didn't know what he needed, but she would give him what she could. Shifting closer, she slipped her free hand around the back of his neck. 'I don't need you to hide your past from me. I just want you. Come back with me.' She felt her eyes watering and couldn't help the tears that started to fall, and suddenly she was angry at her desperation, and at him. 'Damn it, Killian. _You don't get to give up._' Pushing against his shoulders even though he had nowhere backward to go, she then grabbed his vest in her hands and pulled him closer to her. He didn't try to resist her, or maybe he was just slow to react to her rapid change of mood. 'After everything that we've just been through together, everything we've seen, everything we've _lived_, you don't get to just deny me that! You don't get to turn around and say that it's not worth waking up for, because we can have most of those dreams but only if you wake up.'

He tried to pull back but her hands tightened in his vest. 'Emma,' he began.

'_No._ I won't let you give up on me, too. Everyone else has turned their backs on me, has left me behind for whatever reason, but you're the only person who ever came back.' The tears were flowing freely now but she paid them no mind, refusing to focus on anything other than how angry she was with him right then. 'And if you stay here like a _coward_,' she spat, 'then you're not just giving up on me. You're giving up on my family, on our children, our _grandchildren._' She let go of him then, but didn't move from where she still straddled his legs. 'I love you, you stupid pirate, and I'm not ready to let go of that.'

Killian looked up at her, wide-eyed, an uncertain smile spreading across his face. 'You meant it,' he said wonderingly. 'I never...' He trailed off, looking at her with such hope that she felt all of her anger and frustration leak out of her as if it had never been.

'You've never told me, either,' she said defensively.

The smile became a little more confident, a little more like him. 'You knew.'

She replaced her hands on his shoulders, one hand coming up to twist her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. 'You should have known,' she told him, smiling at him sadly.

He responded by leaning forward to capture her lips with his own, kissing her deeply and wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her forward so that their upper bodies were completely pressed together. She kissed him back forcefully, pouring all of the feelings that she'd denied herself for too long into the kiss, tightening her grip on his shoulder and in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

A pulse ran through her with the next beat of her heart, thrumming through her and out into the room but she barely noticed, couldn't think of anything else in that moment but how much she loved the man in her arms.

* * *

She could feel warm lips moving against hers, parting under hers, and then arms were wrapping around her, pulling her close and then pushing her back as Killian sat up slowly without breaking the kiss. Emma grabbed onto him like she just had in the burning room and kept her eyes squeezed shut, terrified of opening them to find another dream. The desperation and helplessness that she'd been feeling had reached its peak and she just couldn't take any more, didn't think she could face it if it wasn't over.

When she heard the startled sounds of reaction from familiar voices she couldn't help the sob that bubbled up and escaped her and she unwillingly pulled away from the kiss. Killian's arms tightened around her, pulling her head to his chest and she could feel his lips against her hair. 'It's all right, love,' he whispered to her.

She twisted out of his arms, glancing quickly over her family before her eyes landed on Henry. The relief that she felt from seeing him was enough to make her feel lightheaded, but his excited grin and obvious happiness grounded her. It looked like no real time had passed since she'd first kissed Killian to wake him, which she was grateful of since she couldn't really tell how long it had felt like to her, stuck inside Killian's head.

Turning back to the pirate, she turned back to him to find him watching her with a grin on his face to match Henry's. He looked like he was about to gather her in his arms again but he stopped, his brow heavily furrowed, staring down at her arm. It wasn't until then that she felt the sting of the burns on her skin. 'It's fine,' she said quickly before he could speak. 'It'll heal.' Pulling her arm away, she turned her body and used her other fist to punch him in the shoulder.

'Hey -'

'Don't you _dare_ even think about doing something like that again,' she snarled at him.

He raised his eyebrow at her, smirking widely. 'Tell me how you really feel,' he teased, tapping at his lips suggestively.

And even though it infuriated her, she pushed him once more for good measure before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She could feel him smiling against her lips.

**AN: I just want to say a massive thank you to everybody who reviewed/favourited/followed or liked/reblogged/recced this fic, every single one means the absolute world to me. I really hope that you enjoyed this, it was really fun and refreshing to write something different. I've gotten a whole heap of support for it on here and on Tumblr, so I hope you all enjoyed the ending as well!**

**Please Review :)**


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